


Stricklake: Stones Through A Lake

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Genre Spanning, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: A collection of the various Stricklake prompts I've gotten on my Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Prompt: Strickler snores and Barbara wakes him up one night. What happens next is up to you.**

* * *

 

“Walter.  _Walter._ ” 

Still nothing but deep, sonorous snores from the other side of the bed. Barbara grimaced and resisted the urge to seize her pillow and squash it over her ears. Or his face. She had taken an oath to do no harm, after all. 

But when her husband was causing her sleeplessness to  _double_  and she had a long shift at the hospital the next day–!

Barbara sighed and  _flumped_  down upon the bed hard. It was a temptation that she had to ignore. But what to do instead? Poke him? 

_Or maybe something sweeter…_

Barbara rolled over and snuggled her way up to where Walter reclined, face slack with sleep and mouth open for all the world to hear his nightly song. _Desperate times call for desperate measures, and all…_

Her first kiss was upon the spot where his pulse fluttered, the tendons of his neck defined what with how his head was thrown back. The next one was on his adam’s apple, then another one at the strong line of his jaw…

Walter twitched and stirred slightly under her soft, lingering lips, and Barbara tampered down a triumphant grin into a soft, loving smirk as she continued her chaste caresses, letting her hand join in in a soft stroke up and down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of it, the bumps of his ribs under her hand. Hard muscle, lean lines and narrow ridges, that was her hubby…

The next kiss was at his ear, and Walter sighed instead of snored now, his mouth pulling into a sleep-muddled moan. “Mmmm…B’arbara…” 

Barbara’s smirk stretched into a smile before she moved in for the final kill. Her lips met his in the slowest, sweetest kiss she could manage, as soft and sleepy as she felt, giving a languid lick of her tongue for good measure. 

Walter woke with a sharp, nasal gasp, sitting up suddenly as his mouth opened under hers for the merest moment before he relaxed and returned the kiss, his hands leaving the bed to card through her hair tenderly. Parting from the embrace, he bumped his nose at hers, green eyes glowing in the shadows of the room. “Quite a way to wake me, love.” 

Barbara hummed in agreement, giving a final kiss to the curve of his nose. “Mmmhmm. Had to. You were snoring again, honey.” 

Walter groaned and let his head sink to her shoulder. “The shame of it. How shall I ever make it up to you?” 

Barbara licked her lips in thought, considering the picture he made just then - hair rumpled with sleep, the collar of his nightshirt opened enough for her to see the hard line of his clavicle, the edge of it she so loved to lavish with attention in their hot and heavy moments…

“Come to think of it…” she said slowly, leaning back to favor him with an equally slow smile, her eyes half-way shut in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. “I’m not so tired now…” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt: I just love Stricklake! And was wondering if you could do this prompt: Where Barbara happens to come home to find Jim, Walter and Nomura talking and she demands to know what's going on.**

 

* * *

“Walt…” Barbara breathed, and oh God, but it sounded so  _wondering_  to her ears,  _too_  wondering and heartfelt and happy and relieved -  _here here he’s here he’s back_ - especially when he–

She stopped herself from stepping to him and drew herself to her full height, and yup, _there’s_  the outrage, the pain and the insecurity of his sudden disappearance fanning it to something truly terrifying, and she was certain it showed in her glare. “You’ve got some goddamned  _nerve_ showing up after–” 

Walter looked panicked and pained -  _good_  - and held up his hands in a gesture she had no doubt was meant to pacify her, and Barbara resisted the urge to swat at them. “Barbara, I know I should have–” 

“Should have  _what?_ ” Barbara spat. “Should have left a note? Should have actually acted like a man or, or someone with actual  _feelings_?” Hurt filled her heart, heartsore and all-consuming. “Or is that it? Did you disappear without a goddamned word because you’re too much of a coward to admit that you didn’t care for me anymore?” 

Oh God, did he  _ever?_  

_Just like last time, it was just like last time–_

“Do you have any idea how m-much that hurt?” Oh God, please don’t let her voice waver, please don’t let her eyes traitorously burn. Barbara stopped herself and breathed, trying to rally herself, but it was so impossible when Walter was standing there, his green eyes gleaming with such obvious pain, such real regret as she continued on. “Having another person do that to me again? Having  _you_  do it, when I thought you were so different–”

“We should go,” muttered the woman standing next to Jim and  _oh God_ , Jim was there, she shouldn’t be saying this in front of Jim–

Wait, why was  _she_  there? 

_Oh God._  

Barbara laughed, heartsick and sore. “Oh man, it all makes sense now. You and Ms. Nomura–”

Walter actually recoiled. “ _What?_  No! Barbara, gods,  _no_ , it wasn’t - it isn’t _that_  at all–!” 

Ms. Nomura scoffed. “Like I would touch you to slice you, Stricklander.”

Barbara wheeled on her, and now it was Ms. Nomura’s turn to recoil.  _“You_ don’t get to say  _anything_ –!” 

_“Mom,”_  Jim interrupted, his voice urgent and grave. “Mom, you have to let them go. It’s better if they leave now.” 

Barbara brushed a hand up under her glasses, wishing there was a more discreet way to rid herself of her tears. “Jim, honey, go upstairs, I don’t want you to see this–”

_“They need to go.”_  Jim’s voice was almost a man’s voice, commanding and certain. “Trust me, it’s not what you think.” He looked at Walter and Ms. Nomura as they watched Barbara in uncertainty- Nomura - and pain - Walter - and he sighed. “I promise, they’ll come back and explain everything.” 

He gave a look full of meaning to Walter, whose eyes widened.  _“Everything._  And…” 

He sighed again and drew himself up, so tall and so young, her beautiful boy. “And so will I. I promise you, Mom…this time I will.” 

Barbara looked at him, and God help her, a worm of fear wriggled through her heart. “Honey…what do you mean… _this_  time…?”

She looked at all three of them and shook her head, ferocious and full of inexplicable fear. “What the  _hell_  is going on?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt: One day Walter Wakes up before Jim and makes pancakes for entire family the three of them have a breakfast together and Barbara can't be more happy.**

* * *

 

“Walter?” 

“Hmm?” He turns to her, and how he looks tugs at her heartstrings in a way that sends a beautiful, heartsore song of emotion rippling over her, painful in its sweetness - hair mussed from sleep, a lick of flour high upon his cheekbone, the shirtsleeves of his pajama top rolled up.  _Homey._

And it’s  _their_  home. “ _Oh goodness…”_

Jim is busy in the kitchen, going through every little detail, perhaps hunting for proof that something went awry, some sort of flaw that will be grounds for Walter’s dismissal from his fortress and sanctuary. Barbara takes the opportunity his temporary absence offers and steps close to Walter, into his warmth, his arms that so readily go about her, one hand spanning her spine, the other sliding up over her heart. 

She must have some syrup still on her mouth, or he on his. How else could their kiss be so sweet? 

She ends it with a nuzzle, noses nudging at each other as she looks up into his gaze, green and gorgeous and positively glowing with warmth and readiness and the slow burgeoning beauty of  _belonging_. 

Her whisper is caught on his lips. “Thanks for breakfast, sweetheart.” 

“Okay, everything is in order.” Jim’s footsteps come to the door of the kitchen. “You even washed everything afterwards too, I’m impressed – oh,  _c’mon_ …”

“You needn’t look, Young Atlas,” Walter retorts without any rancor, and Barbara can only laugh, happy and wholehearted and  _home._


	4. Chapter 4

**Prompt: idea: stricklake but in a rumbelle au**

* * *

 

“My price…is  _her._ ” 

Gasps fill the room at that, horrified and shocked and Stricklander allows himself a smile, the smirk on his lips sharp to begin with what with his fangs but sharper still in his satisfaction. Bular, beast and brute that he is, would have demanded the Trollhunter outright. It is due to  _his_  methods–

– _impure_  as they are–

–that this demand has taken on a far more devastating toll to the young hero. Before, he would have sacrificed himself in a thoughtless and selfless blaze of glory. This, oh,  _this_  is so much worse to the young hero’s heart, a blow of unthought of cruelty. 

It is so much worse and therefore, so much  _better._  

The Trollhunter’s dear Lady Mother for peace between the Darklands and their own beloved kingdom of Arcadia. It is too  _delicious_. 

The young knight eyes burn blue and bright with outrage, and the daylight of his sword glows all the brighter with the same hatred as he glares at Stricklander, at the abomination who would dare to make such a demand. He swings the weapon at him, pointing it in such a way that Stricklander knows with no small amount of amusement that the boy dearly wants to run him through with it. His words are gritted things, torn between clenched teeth.  _“Get out. **Now**.”_  

Stricklander bows low, the shadow of his horns crossing the floor in a way that’s positively demonic, he’s sure. A deal with the devil is only too appropriate for such a situation, and he dressed himself accordingly. “As you wish.” 

Indeed, it is no matter. Time will tell and he is sure he will win this waiting wager. He turns on his heel, his cloak flaring as he crosses to the doors. And then, he will make history as the one who–

“Wait!” 

_What?_  

He turns back, the confusion he feels also rippling through the room in whispers as she steps forward, and…

… _well_. He had heard rumors, but to see her is another thing entirely. 

Her beauty is striking enough already, with those sapphire eyes and that glorious molten fire of her hair, that pale skin so unlike his own stone, but with a weak spirit it would have no effect. And hers is no weak spirit. She is a firebrand, burning bright and steady and serious with her earnest gaze and the firm clench of her fine jaw, her whole body aflame in her quiet desperation, her selfless gaze. “I will go with you.”

Stricklander can only stare as the Trollhunter rushes to her, his armor disappearing in his horror.  _“Mother, **no** –!” _

“James,  _please._ ” She turns back to him, any desperate love replaced with stony resolve, a cool disdain as she looks up into his own fiery gaze. “My friends…my family…they will all live?” 

Stricklander hides whatever amazement – _to offer **herself,**  he had no way of knowing she would do so,  **be**  so utterly–_ and inclines his head to her, the flourish made all the more mocking what with how his horns weigh the movement down. “You have my word.” 

She closes her eyes, and then opens them, the blue of them all the more beautiful what with how wet they are. “Then you have mine. I will go with you, forever.” 

Stricklander smiles, his teeth sharp and his stony heart victorious. _“Deal.”_   

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt: Stricklake having a super intimate moment with each other by slow dancing in a dark room while ‘Girl from the North Country’ by Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash plays on a radio (or Strickler’s own records, I bet he owns a gramophone) in the background. Bittersweetness ensues.**

 

* * *

“Why?”

His heart nearly stops with the question, and it takes a second that seems so much longer in his breathless panic to register that it was asked sweetly, without rebuke or recrimination.  _Why did you use me? Why did you come back?_

Still, his voice betrays the rust of fear when he speaks.  _“What?”_

“You stopped dancing.” She looks up at him then, her eyes now open, and oh, how he  _missed_  that blue, so deep and so trusting and so achingly beautiful, a beauty that he knows down to his core he does not deserve, especially now. “Why?” 

“I…” He looks away, his heart giving an ache as heavy as the stone that is his true skin. “Just thinking about the lyrics, darling. Perhaps not the best time to.” 

She hums in thought or agreement, and he loves the sound of it, so soft and warm, the feel of her in his arms the same, and gods, here he is, breaking all laws and logic by coming back to here, to  _her_ , because he’s impure in his wants, his needs–

And he needs  _her_ , he so desperately needs her, even with all the promises he made to the Trollhunter, to himself, to stay away, keep her  _safe_ –

“I’d rather concentrate on other things, personally.” She gives him that soft shy smile that seems so at odds with the woman that she is, this doctor and mother who is so magnificent in her management of her career and her life, so strong and so silent when it comes to all the heartache life has dealt her. 

_Heartache **you**  gave to her, heartache that  **you**  erased from her, if she knew, if she remembered…_

She would scream instead of sway in his arms, slap him, and he almost wishes she would, just like last time, only now the burn of it would be his alone to rightfully bear. 

His thoughts are stopped when she leans her head upon his shoulders. “I like bittersweet songs, honestly,” she murmurs, her breath brushing through the fabric of his sweater to his very skin, his very soul. “They’re more honest, you know? Life has to have pleasure and pain, not just false promises.” 

She stops and then laughs, small and sweet and abashed. “God, that was cheesy, I’m sorry–” 

“Never apologize to me, Barbara.” He steals a kiss to the crown of her head, her hair so silky against his lips, the warm perfume of her being as good as any intoxicant.  _Especially when I do not deserve it_.

She sighs at that, pliant with quite pleasure in his arms, and he can feel the soft drop of her lashes, how she surrenders so easily to his words, his dance.  _Beguiling her all over again, you snake, you filth, you impure–_

He can give her nothing but lies. Nothing but false promises. Nothing but a dance in a dark room where no light can expose him for who- _what_ he truly is…

She nuzzles him, soft and and slow and sweet, the affection of the gesture pressing right above his traitor heart, and her words have the air of the tenderest confession. “I missed you so much, Walter.” 

He can feel his gaze glow at the sheer bittersweet pain and pleasure of hearing his false name on her lips, and now he is the one to close his eyes. “And I you, my love.” 

_“She once was a true love of mine…”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay but just imagine- Stricklake as a Persephone/Hades AU**

* * *

 

The Darklands had earned their name for a reason. It was a dubious honor to rule them, and he did not even have that, Stricklander noted bitterly. Gunnmar the Black’s sway was a sucking void, its darkness leeching light away from anything and all that entered.

Darkness had been all that Stricklander had ever known, shadows and savagery and spying spun together. 

How then could he not crave the light? 

And how could he not fall for the light of  _her?_  

For she was light, a beautiful beacon and balm to his starved eyes - her hair a molten, crimson curve of fire tucked into a coil, her eyes burning bright blue like two licks of hottest flames, her very spirit, her very  _soul_ , crackling and calling to his, igniting him, sending him into incandescent longings for her.

For her light was warmth, and Stricklander had been damned to the cold for so very long. Hers was a light that healed, and he had been scarred and struck, waiting for her touch. 

He would have her. He  _had_  to have her.

To steal a Human into the Darklands was madness, but Stricklander was sane enough to know she was willing to do anything to help her precious boy, and he knew how to spin a deal in his favor. 

And if she consumed the food of the Darklands…

Stricklander closed his eyes against the darkness, picturing how her light would flame out, cause the shadows to retreat and recoil, and a smile stretched upon his stoney mouth. 

Soon…

Soon she would be his.

And his darkness would be over.  


	7. Chapter 7

**Prompt: Regarding Walter Strickler the Hot Teacher - Imagine a few years forward, when Strickler the Hot Dad is stalked by a herd of single moms whenever he and the kids are out shopping. And Barbara taking great joy in flouncing up to him and then sending a smug glance over her shoulder like "Yeah, and he's ALL mine."**

**I took a bit of creative license with the prompt, but hopefully it still satisfies!**

 

* * *

“Oh my  _God_ , who is  _that?”_  

Barbara looked up from her chart with a sigh, recognizing the tone with which Amanda spoke. Jackson and Delilah were probably with her, instead of attending to patients like they ought to be doing. While she really didn’t need to get on the nurses bad side, it certainly didn’t help their cause that they were content to blatantly ogle some random stud muffin instead of, y’know, doing their job. And from the sound of it, said stud was choice enough to distract the trio for the whole of her shift–

“I don’t know, but man, I sure wanna know,” purred Delilah in her rich southern accent, already tossing her caramel curls back and giving a megawatt smile in the direction of the front desk, no doubt where the poor sucker stood. Barbara snorted. Heaven help the man if Delilah Brooks was on the prowl…

“Hon, you don’t even know if he goes for girls,” Jackson tutted, before taking a considering glance himself. “The best  _we_  can hope for is that he swings both ways.” He then gave a wicked grin. “Or maybe he’s gay and then I get him all to myself.” 

_“Selfish,”_  Amanda snorted, rolling her eyes. She then fanned herself exaggeratedly, her bright gray eyes intent on her prey. “God, but is it just me, or does he give off some smoking hot professor vibes?”

“He can keep me after school anytime,” Delilah said, her dimples deepening with her impish smile. “Maybe we can ask him how to earn extra credit–”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Jackson hummed in approval, his eyes traveling up and down appreciatively. “God, but he’s wearing the  _hell_  out of that tweed.  _That’s_  what I call a cute butt. Never thought I would go for a guy in a turtleneck, but Mama always said that life’s gonna take us by surprise–”

“I’ve always been a sucker for that salt and pepper look,” Delilah moaned appreciatively, twirling a curl around a finger now. “Ooooh, and look at those eyes! How do eyes  _get_  so green?” 

Amanda and Jackson moaned their own agreements, but Barbara stilled.  _Wait…_

Green eyes, salt and pepper hair, hot professor vibes…?

_No._  

No way, it couldn’t be–!

At the moment, Jackson stiffened and then frantically shushed his compatriots giggles. “Shhhhh, shush! He’s coming over here! Act casual!” 

Walter strode into view, looking around the waiting room before he spotted the trio and started to them, and Barbara had no problem with conceding that he did indeed look the very epitome of Hot Professor. 

Tugging at his jacket subtly and running a hand over his hair, he gave Amanda, Delilah, and Jackson a nod and a brief smile that only made those striking features all the more handsome. “Good afternoon, I’m looking for one of your doctors.” 

The tone was polite but perfunctory, but Barbara could sense a swoon coming over the three over the new discovery of how utterly  _gorgeous_  that voice was. Hell, it still had the power to make her swoon, and it had been years since they got together–

Heck, and they had never even heard it in the middle of a moan, talk about swoon worthy–

Walt looked around the waiting room once more and sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, the very picture of elegant ease. “She said she would be in the waiting room, but I haven’t had any luck in finding her. Would you be able to assist?”

“We’d  _love_  to help you, sir,” Delilah enthused, putting as much of a purr as she could into her words, fluttering her lashes. Barbara tried not to hold it against her - she was from the South, flirting was in her blood. 

Amanda gave her an annoyed look and stepped forward, sweeping her black her back in a way she obviously was attempting to be flirty yet subtle, while Jackson seemed to be leaning against the counter of the desk in a way that best showed off his arms. 

Walter gave a polite if touch confused smile and continued on. “We’re supposed to meet for a date–”

“Damn, not single,” Delilah muttered, her smile falling into a grouse. 

Walter looked at her confusedly.  _“What?”_

Okay, time to put everyone out of their misery. 

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” Barbara called as she put her chart away and strode to where they stood, fighting to keep herself from strutting just a tiny bit.  

The trio gaped as Walter immediately turned to her, his eyes lighting up in a way that was frankly unfair as he took her in. God, but the fact that he looked at her like  _that_ , mussed scrubs and all–

She bit her cheek to keep back her blush and continued on as best she could, joining them and twining her hand with Walter’s as she spoke. “I only just got off, I’m starving–” 

“Then lunch awaits,” Walter said with a smile, lifting her hand to his lips and giving it the familiar kiss. He then tugged her close to whisper in her ear, and she could feel the wicked curve of his smile. “And you shan’t be  _getting off_  until  _later_ , love–”

Blushing bright pink but biting back a smile, Barbara could only hope the trio of nurses hadn’t heard that last bit. 

Giving them a nod, she and Walter walked away from the desk, Walter already starting off on the subject of his students and some inane stunt one in particular had pulled today. Barbara did her best to pay attention, but the whispers behind her were all too easily heard. 

_“Damn.”_ Jackson sounded not the least bit grudging, but instead quite impressed. “Dr. Lake can get them.” 

“Wish I had gotten there first,” pouted Delilah. 

Amanda hummed. “Still, they make a hell of a cute couple. Imagine how cute their baby’s gonna be…”

Barbara looked back over her shoulder and couldn’t resist giving the smallest of smug smiles and a saucy wink. 

The trio applauded, their admiration and envy on their faces, and Barbara had to fight back a triumphant smile as she looked at Walter as they walked out of the hospital together, taking in the classically striking lines of his profile, his beautiful green eyes… 

_“Imagine how cute their baby’s gonna be…”_

Barbara thought back to the tiny little bump in her belly that no one, not even Walt, knew about just yet, and smiled a new smile, far more tender than triumphant. 

_If I have to deal with having a Hot Husband everyone wants, honey, the you get to deal with having a Hot Dad._

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

**Prompt: If you’re still taking Walter and Barbara prompts, I think it’d be adorable if he and she took a bubble bath together, him in Changeling form of course... maybe some naughty activity that causes a mess of water splashing out of the tub. ;)**

* * *

 

Barbara sighed blissfully as she closed her eyes and let the heavenly hotness of the water work its magic upon her sore muscles, luxuriously stretching herself and feeling her tendons tense then relax under the all encompassing heat, the steam perfumed by the fragrant bubbles wafting up in floral-scented clouds. Oh God, but this was  _bliss_ after a long day at the hospital. 

Her voice was drowsy and dreamy when she spoke, languidly swirling her foot through the water. “This…is…” 

“Utterly ridiculous.” 

Barbara opened her eyes to shoot him an amused look, unable to summon any ill-will. “You were the one to agree to this, you know.” 

Walter harrumphed, leaning back against the tub’s rim, his horns gleaming wetly from the steam. “Yes, but that was before you requested I accompany you,” he waved a hand to himself, “in  _this_  form. I barely fit the tub, woman.”

Barbara could only chuckle, even if she knew he had a point. In his Changeling form, Walt was easily eight feet tall, long and relatively slender when compared to the bulk of the other trolls she had met. 

_But still broad shouldered_ , she thought a touch wickedly.  _Still strong enough to sweep me up like I weigh nothing at all._  And God, but she had a weakness for  _that_  image, his Changeling form cradling her like something off of a Harlequin novel.  _Beauty and the Beast…_

That in mind, she offered him a slightly saucy smirk. “Maybe I just can’t get enough of  _this_  form. I’ve already told you countless times how beautiful it is–”

Walter harrumphed again, but she could tell he was chuffed by the sweet talk. And it wasn’t just empty words - she loved Walt, no matter what skin he wore, what form he took, but his Changeling form was… _special._  Strange and spellbinding, his skin of stone normally cool yet warmed under her touch, the feel of it against her legs right now slippery with soap and hot water, like stones under a lake…

And his eyes, yellow and lamplike in the dim light of the bathroom, only a few candles lit to provide visibility.  _Mood lighting…_

She had wanted a certain ambience, and by God, she was getting it. 

Barbara’s smile stretched upon her lips, and she sent a private prayer of thanks that she had bought a big enough tub for just this sort of thing before sitting up and stretching luxuriously, hands curling up into the air, knowing the suds of the water did  _nothing_  to cover her nakedness. She heard Walter catch his breath and suppressed a grin. 

Finished, she leaned back once more and lifted a foot out of the water, dripping suds as she wriggled it at him. Walter readily caught it and began stroking, the feel of his stone smooth as it massaged her soreness away. Barbara sighed happily and let her head drop back, her hair coiling wetly into the water. “You can’t deny that this is nice…” 

“I would say it’s great deal more than nice,” countered Walter, his voice a soft rumble as it washed over her like the hot water was. She felt her foot being lifted higher still. “I would go as far to say it is so…very… _lovely_ …”

Her eyes flew upon at the touch of his teeth, and Barbara flew up, sending a wave of water sloshing out of the tub.  _“Walter!”_

“What, my love?” Walter inquired innocently, giving another little flirtatious nip to her toes that had Barbara squealing. It was not helped at all by how his talons tickled her big toe, and she thrashed in his grasp as he continued on, a wicked smile coming to his fangs. “You said you loved this form, did you not? You should know that certain instincts come along with it–”

Barbara laugh was more of a gasp. “What, like  _biting_  me?” 

“Nuzzling and nipping are often preludes to mating in Trollkind,” Walter murmured as he moved to her through the water, his eyes seeming to glow even brighter now. 

Before Barbara even knew it, he was over her, looming and large and looking down at her like she was prey and he was a  _most_  hungry predator–

The water was sloshing everywhere, and Barbara had a gut feeling it was going to get even  _more_ messy.  _“Walter–”_

“Barbara,” Walter replied with a smirk, his fangs making it even more impossibly wicked. “My lovely lady of Lake. You look like a sea nymph, darling, all wet and hot for me–”

His thigh slid between her legs, and oh goodness, talk about  _wet_  and  _hot_ –

“The water is going to get everywhere,” Barbara breathed, knowing that she should care, that  _someone_  should care, even though right now she frankly didn’t. 

“We’ll mop it up later,” Walter growled back, and he groaned rapturously as she slid her hands out of the water and along his horns, her nails scratching over the bone. “In the mean time…” 

He nuzzled along the soaking, slender line of her neck before meeting her lips, his growl soft against them, “…give us a kiss, lovely Lady Lake.”  

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Prompt: I found you through Archive and I was wondering if you could do Stricklake where Walt shows his true form to Barbara for the first time (Well kinda like first time. First time after she forgives him for his deeds) I'd like to see your take on how Barbara will react to seeing him and what she will do! :)**

 

* * *

“This…” Barbara breathes and stops and tries to speak, tries to find the words that are so clearly not coming, “this is…you’re…” 

It is so very hard not to change back into his human form, to hide in it, hide from her with her wide vividly blue eyes -  _so beautiful, he’s not sure which of her features he fell for first, but her eyes could hold worlds in them, as they already hold his heart_  - but Stricklander has sworn to never deceive this woman again. And so he shows himself, in all his impurity…

She steps to him, her feet cautious.  _Afraid?_  “This…this is you? Really you?” 

He doesn’t trust himself with words, and so gives a terse nod, the merest jerk of his head that is still nonetheless weighed down by his horns. He can feel her eyes follow them, take them in, so alien and unlike anything she’s ever seen before, ever known…

She stops in front of him, and her hand stretches out to touch him before she stops herself, and incredibly, there’s a blush upon her cheeks. “I…If you take off your jacket in your human form, does your cloak stay on in this form?”

Strickler blinks.  _This_  is what she wonders when faced with his monstrousness?  “I’ve…I’ve never tested it.” 

It’s the first time he’s spoken in front of her in this form, and her eyes widen at the obvious change in the voice, so much deeper, feral and fierce even when speaking such soft words. Her breath catches, and Strickler longs to catch her, hold her, reassure her that he’s  _not_ this thing, this monstrous being, that he’s so much more at home in his human form than this one–

Then–

Her hand reaches out again, and she looks up at him through her lashes, silently asking permission. 

Strickler does not even know what for, but gods, he will give her  _anything_  she asks, and so nods. 

He still has to catch his gasp behind his fangs when she presses her palm to his chest, her fingers fanning out in a hold of heat over his heart, and he can feel the jump of her pulse when she registers how cool he is compared to her. Her whisper is wondering, full of medical fascination. “You’re…you’re actually  _stone._  But it’s  _more_  than that, more than just stone, it’s like you’re…” 

“Living stone.” Strickler tries to swallow but it’s so very hard to. “Warmer, and alive, but still hard to the touch.” If that makes any sense.

She looks up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted as she takes him in, his hard edges and etchings, his horns and his horribleness, his magnificence and his monstrosity. Her throat works in a slow swallow, and then she speaks. “Walter…you’re so…so…” 

He can only bow his head and close his eyes, waiting for her horror, her judgment and censure.  _Hideous, sickening, wrong, utterly impure–_

_“Beautiful.”_  

Walter’s eyes open, and he can see the glow of them upon Barbara’s pale skin as she takes him in, stares at him spellbound, and she speaks again. “You’re  _so_ beautiful, Walter.” 

Walter can only stare back at her, his shock so deep that he doesn’t even notice her hands going up along his shoulders, careful not to knick themselves on his knives, and then curling into his hair–

When she pulls him down to her, it’s gentle and guiding, and Walter can not help but follow. 

She doesn’t even pause at the sight of his fangs, but presses her lips to his in a kiss that is as sweet and soft as their first one. She had been the one to initiate both times, and both times she had stolen his heart, his very breath away…

Walter wants to put his arms around her, but instead his hands hover helplessly over her back, still so afraid to touch her back, even as she gives him her mouth, her sweetness and her soul. 

When she stops, she pulls away and miracle of miracles, she’s smiling. “There,” she whispers, her eyes beaming bright and blue and beautiful. “Now I know it’s you. No one can kiss me like you can, Walt.”

And, miracle of miracles, Walt cannot help but smile back.   


End file.
